


Negotiations

by engmaresh



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Cunnilingus, Enemies in love, F/F, Korvira Week 2020, Kuvira is not nice, Not Compliant with Avatar Comics, Rough Sex, Tribadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26863642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/engmaresh
Summary: When Korra finally pulls back, Kuvira’s eyes are dark with lust, her mouth bitten red, and she no longer just smells of her flowers. She rises, leaving a wet patch staining the wool of Korra’s thigh, and takes a sip of her now cool tea.“So how will we negotiate, Avatar?”Kuvira rules the Earth Empire. When Korra comes to negotiate for peace, things get messy quickly.
Relationships: Korra/Kuvira (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> For day 3 of Korvira Week, _Aggression_.

The problem with dictators, Korra thinks, is that they’re incredibly paranoid, and Kuvira is no exception.

“Hey!” she exclaims, when fingers stray a little too close for comfort. “At least buy me dinner first.”

Captain Gu remains as somber and dour-faced as usual. Korra has suspected for a long time that Kuvira has made the woman captain of her personal guard merely to spite her. Nothing and no one charms Gu, who looks like she’d been hewn out of rock, animated into some semblance of a human being, and then put into uniform and armour.

“Go,” she says, when she’s finally satisfied that Korra doesn’t have an army hidden down her trousers. “Our Leader will be with you shortly.”

Korra’s mouth twists, the way she can’t help but do every time she hears Kuvira's title leave the lips of one of her people. It’s easy to mock it, “Our Leader”, but every time she enters the Earth Empire she’s reminded how much its citizens believe in it. Believe in Kuvira.

But this isn’t a bone she can pick with an underling like Gu. The woman will follow Kuvira to the grave if asked; debating with her the nuances of propaganda and indoctrination will be useless. 

Korra steps into the office, and the heavy platinum door slams shut behind her. With its tall ceilings and the grey stone walls, Kuvira’s office would be claustrophobically oppressive if it wasn’t for the garden it opened into on one side, a patch of green about 20 yards across, planted haphazardly with peony bushes. It looks like Kuvira has been gardening quite recently--a dirty trowel is sunk into the ground, and a puddle hasn’t quite yet dried around the garden hose.

Korra steps out carefully into the green and bends to sniff one of the pink peonies around the edge. It smells like _her_.

“Enjoying my flowers again, Avatar?”

Only Kuvira can make that sound like a come on. Korra straightens, turns around. The sight is a bit of a surprise. Kuvira still favours her military uniform, likes to remind her enemies and allies alike of the power she wields, the skill of her bending, her supposedly rightfully earned title. She’s forgone that today, in favour of a robe, cinched about the waist with a band of metal that looks like it was bent from a letter opener.

Korra swallows. Her greeting dies in her mouth. Underneath the flowing green watered silk, Kuvira’s not wearing anything.

“Owlcat got your tongue?”

Korra closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Just another one of Kuvira’s games. Stay focused.

When she opens them again, Kuvira has already retreated behind her desk. A pot of tea steams at her elbow, and as Korra approaches, she pours them each a cup of Tieguanyin.

“So,” she says, leaning back as Korra takes a seat. She crosses her legs, and the robe slides up her thigh, and Korra takes a little longer to get comfortable. “Whose errands are you running today, Korra?”

“No,” says Korra, this time adamant not to be baited. “None of that. You know why I’m here. Nothing happens in your Empire without you knowing.”

“Of course.” Kuvira uncrosses her legs and drags her chair closer. Her hands fold on the desk, businesslike except for the bit where Korra can see the shape of her peaked nipples beneath her robe. “A good leader always knows what’s going on.”

“The men you captured are not Wu’s agents,” Korra argues. “He has no idea who they are.”

Kuvira tilts her head. “Case in point. Why the hell is that fool still allowed even a modicum of power?”

“His rule is far more legitimate than yours!”

“Oh, for the love of--!” Kuvira rolled her eyes. “He’s an idiot who couldn’t rule his way out of a paper bag. I have the people’s mandate. I brought this country the kind of power and prosperity his useless lineage failed to provide! Every time you visit, Avatar, every time you come to bargain, you further legitimize my position! Yet you still insist on arguing this point. Every. Damn. Time!” And she punctuates the last three words with her fist against the hardwood.

Korra grins. “This is why.”

“Fuck you,” Kuvira spits, already halfway across the desk. Korra meets her in the middle, seizing her by the collar of her robe and hauling her the rest of the way. Something crashes to the floor. It’s not the teapot.

Kuvira’s mouth is hot and wet; she taste like tea, smells like her stupid peonies. She kisses like she fights, vicious and sharp. “Oh fuuuuck,” Korra groans, tasting blood as her lip splits under Kuvira’s teeth. She can’t get enough of this, this time without Kuvira’s stupid uniform to get out of the way first. She pulls away, lowering her mouth to a taut nipple and bringing it between her lips. She’ll bleed all over the silk, and Kuvira can walk away with that badge of blood over her heart.

“Korra,” Kuvira murmurs, as she grinds down into Korra’s lap. “Korra.” Her hands cradle Korra’s head against her chest, dragging her nails through the short hairs of her undercut, where the skin is more sensitive. She whimpers when Korra flicks her other nipple, rolling it between thumb and finger, pinching it just shy of painful.

When Korra finally pulls back, Kuvira’s eyes are dark with lust, her mouth bitten red, and she no longer just smells of her flowers. She rises, leaving a wet patch staining the wool of Korra’s thigh, and takes a sip of her now cool tea. She feigns composure well, but Korra has known her long enough to see the signs, the restless twitching of her knee, how her thumb worries at the hem of her sleeve.

“So how will we negotiate, Avatar?”

“Enough games,” growls Korra. This time it _is_ the teapot that shatters as she pushes Kuvira back against the desk. 

“Shit!” And Korra remember’s Kuvira’s bare feet. Grabbing her by the back of her thighs, she hauls her up around her waist and presses her against the wall, out of the way of the puddle of shards and tea. Kuvira’s by no means small or light, but without the boots that give her that extra inch of height, she’s just about pushed to her tiptoes when Korra forces her thigh between her legs.

“Oh,” she breathes, “ _oh_ ”. Korra can feel her thighs tremble. The robe has pulled away from her breasts, bunching under the makeshift belt, so Korra bends that away and uses it to bolt Kuvira’s wrists to the wall.

“Sweet spirits,” groans Kuvira, eyes rolling back a little in her head. “What have I done to piss you off this time, Avatar? What war cri--”

She breaks off with a cry, when Korra grinds her knee deeper against her sopping cunt, dragging the rough wool against her clit. Kuvira has no leverage like this, arms pinned and only Korra’s knee keeping her up, and though she could free her any time, she won’t.

Burying her face in Kuvira’s neck, Korra reaches down to comb her fingers through Kuvira’s neatly trimmed pubes. She’s so hot, so wet against her skin, even through the thick cloth. “Be quiet,” she says, and Kuvira nods, biting her lip, eyes bright. She finds Kuvira’s clit, carefully pinching it between finger and thumb, dragging the sensitive nub against her pant leg. Kuvira hisses, and Korra can feel her bear down a little harder, seeking more friction.

“Stop calling me that, yeah?” she says as she starts circling her thumb in counterpoint to the slow rocking of her thigh. She brings her free hand back to Kuvira’s chest, pinching her nipples, dragging her thumb over the wet silk. “No more errand girl bullshit.”

Even like this, Kuvira finds in her to scoff. “What, you don’t like it?”

“I’m the Avatar,” Korra tells her, and drags her teeth down Kuvira’s throat. “I’m nobody’s messenger.” She slips her hand between their bodies, dragging her fingers through Kuvira’s wetness. She’s gushing, slick all the way down to her thighs as Korra traces her the tips of her fingers across her slit, almost sobbing from the tease until finally Korra takes pity on her. Her cunt is hot and soft and grasping around her fingers when Korra pushes in, grinding the heel of her hand against Kuvira’s clit. She comes like this, scream muffled against Korra’s shoulder, legs jerking up around her waist, soaking Korra’s hand to the wrist.

Korra gives her a moment to recover, then steps back, simultaneously bending her arms free. Kuvira drops to her feet, sways for a moment, then slides down to the floor. “Fuck,” she groans again, shamelessly pressing her fingers to her cunt, chasing the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Korra.” She beckons. “Come here.”

Korra’s already pulling loose the drawstring of her pants as she steps closer, helps Kuvira pull them and her underwear down to her knees. Kuvira’s selfish, doesn’t stop touching herself even as she digs her nails into the crease of Korra’s thigh and raises her mouth to her cunt. She’s much gentler there than when she kisses, tongue dipping carefully into her slit, dragging it up every now and then to kiss and suck on Korra’s clit. She comes again, and Korra can feel it when she groans, deep into the very core of her. Jumps a little at the of feel Kuvira’s hand on her thigh, still wet from herself and a little cold from the air, and she’s being pulled closer now, Kuvira’s nose nudging against her clit, tongue deep in her, and Korra can feel her pleasure coil--until she comes, digging her hands into the wall above Kuvira’s head and raining stone dust over her hair. 

It’s a long drawn out orgasm, and Kuvira doesn’t let up, tracing circles into Korra with her tongue, fingers stroking up and down the insides and backs of her thighs. She manages to draw out another peak from her and another, until Korra’s almost sore from the oversensitivity and has to push her away. “Oh spirits,” she groans, nearly falls, still hobbled by her trousers and underwear, and almost misses the chair when she collapses back into it.

Kuvira looks up at her from the floor. Her appearance is utterly debauched, her hair a mess, the silk robe bunched under her dark with fluids, and her shining grin utterly triumphant. Even despite the dust in her hair.

“Korra,” she says, rising on slightly wobbly knees. Korra’s gratified to see Kuvira, usually so poised, to take a moment to find her balance. Though she somehow manages to still look imperious even with her robe glued to her ass, walking slightly bow-legged. “We should do this more often.” 

Korra rolls her eyes. She knows where this is going. “No. I’m not aligning with you.”

“Hmmm.” Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Kuvira gingerly perches herself on the arm of Korra’s chair. She can feel the damp robe brush against her bare bicep. “A shame.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it better this way.” 

“I don’t know,” Kuvira says slowly. “I have given it some thought. You and I.”

“No,” says Korra, and pushes her gently from the chair. “C’mon, let’s do what I came here to do.”

“That wasn’t it?” Kuvira asks brightly, grinning with too many teeth. She moves to perch herself on the edge of her desk. “I don’t see what’s there to negotiate. They trespassed, they were arrested. I don’t care who sent them, they were in clear violation of the treaty.”

“And I'm sure you've already made sure they’ve learnt their lessons. Kuvira, one of them is only eighteen.”

Kuvira’s eyes narrow. It’s frightening sometimes, how quickly she can turn cold. What worries Korra more is how little that disturbs her these days. That she’s started to find it arousing--all that calculating intent. “Eighteen is old enough to make their own choices, you and I both know that.”

“Oh for spirit’s sake!” yells Korra, and realises she probably has a better argument with her trousers done. She yanks them back up her waist, thighs now clammy and cold. “Wu wants to make a trade. You still have his cousins. We’ll trade them and any prisoners you have for Baatar.”

Kuvira snorts, eyebrows rising incredulously. “You’re joking. He defected. I don’t want him back.”

And that’s it, really. That’s all Korra had to bargain with. She’d known from the start it wouldn’t be enough. She’d come anyway, all this way, just to see this woman. Her supposed nemesis.

She meets Kuvira’s knowing gaze. “Kuvira…”

“Stop playing their games, Korra. At least you know what mine are.”

And she gets ever closer to thinking about it. “I’ll be back.”

“Sure,” says Kuvira, with a careless shrug. “The Avatar is always welcome in my home. And in my bed. And you should probably clean up before you see your _friends_ again.”

Pushing away from her desk, she rounds it and pulls open a drawer, calling a pair of secateurs to her hand. Korra follows her into the garden and watches as she prunes a large white peony at the stem. “Here.” And she tucks it behind her ear. “It won’t cover up the smell, but you can use the hose too if you want.” She laughs a soft, mocking little laugh.

“Goodbye, Korra. Tell Wu to go fuck himself. And come back to negotiate with me any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck redemption arcs, corrupt the heroes instead. Sexily. /bitter


End file.
